Acting Out
by gopadfoot
Summary: Mycroft is visiting Sherlock when the detective gets a visit from a client. Unfortunately, the client spells trouble. It will take a creative solution to get them out of it. Can the Holmes brothers and the army doctor pull it off? More importantly, will Mycroft end up killing his brother for forcing him to go along with his plan?
1. Chapter 1

Mycroft always had the worst timing, Sherlock thought grumpily. Always.

Big Brother had headed into the kitchen to finish his Very Important Phone Call when a client rang the doorbell. Mycroft was blabbering away with what sounded like someone from the PM's office. As usual, he was circumspect with his words, using code names or alternate terms when discussing discreet matters. It wouldn't have posed an issue, if not for the client Sherlock was currently entertaining.

The well groomed man seated across from Sherlock had introduced himself as David Singleton. He was smooth, suave, and exuded an air of confidence, which fit with his proclaimed status as a CEO of a profitable company. He definitely was that, Sherlock deduced, only he had a little side job that he neglected to mention. Singleton was the head of a minor crime syndicate that dealt with mainly identity theft and money laundering.

He must have been pretty desperate to contact the World's Only Consulting Detective, Sherlock mused. He was looking for a former employee who made off with "vital documents and a large sum of cash". Did he really believe that Sherlock wouldn't find out what sort of documents the man was carrying, or did he think the detective wouldn't care?

"Of course, you'll be handsomely rewarded for your efforts. Though I've heard that you enjoy the challenge of the chase more than the financial remuneration." Singleton laughed smarmily. "Life as a detective must be pretty exciting, huh?" His condescending tone grated on Sherlock's nerves, and he tried hard to not let his expression give anything away.

The criminal mastermind had obviously done some research, which had led him to conclude that Sherlock Holmes enjoyed a good challenge and was not above bending the law to his benefit. Which wasn't exactly untrue, to be honest. However, Sherlock had no intention of aiding a criminal when it would bring him no benefit. He decided to play along, hoping to get as much information as possible to help him bring the organization down. Served the man right for wasting his time.

"No! Absolutely not! If you can't get all the Cabinet ministers in for the meeting, there's no point in my attendance. This issue needs the unanimous input of all the members. I won't be wasting my time." Mycroft's raised voice wafted over to the two seated men.

Singleton raised an eyebrow in interest. Mycroft continued his conversation, oblivious to the attention he was getting. "I'll need to discuss this with the Prime Minister. No, no, right now is not a good time... I shall be calling in exactly one hour from now. No, this has nothing to do with the new concerns in Parliament... I will be in touch."

There was a gleam in the criminal's eyes that gave Sherlock pause. "Sounds like a very important gentleman. Friend of yours?" he inquired casually.

Sherlock tried to deduce the cause of the man's sudden interest. Singleton had an edge of desperation to him. The stolen documents must contain some very incriminating evidence. Did the employee intend to use it as blackmail? Or perhaps he wanted to hand it over to the government, in exchange for a plea bargain? Whatever it was, it must be of vital importance to his client, who would do anything-

Wait. _Anything._ Sherlock froze for a moment, staring at Singleton silently. "Is something the matter?" the man asked, a hint of danger in his voice. Sherlock silently berated himself and shook his head. "I just think I've got a clue as to where your man has gone. According to his file" Sherlock began, "he is proficient in Spanish and has family in Peru. It's quite logical he would have sought assistance and refuge in that direction." Sherlock expounded on this theory that may have sounded credible, but was in fact completely wrong.

"I'm at my brother's right now, but I could be over at Whitehall in approximately two hours. You should let the Russian delegation wait in the side room.. yes, make them sweat it out a bit."

Sherlock began making plans to excuse himself and go shut his brother's pie hole. Mycroft had no idea what kind of whole he was digging for himself. David Singleton definitely had a weapon in his briefcase, and minions waiting outside. He would jump at the opportunity to kidnap an important but currently vulnerable member of the government. It was an incredibly stupid move, in the long run, but Sherlock wouldn't put it past him. The mastermind was like a trapped animal, and not a very clever one at that.

Or perhaps he was a bit clever. Then he could try to target Sherlock, perhaps kidnap him at a later time and get Mycroft to give in to his demands... Mycroft had declared him to be family, and made him into a target as such. Singleton, if he played his cards right, would get a free plane ride out of England plus a nice sum to tide him over hard times. Sherlock started feeling queasy.

"Excuse me, I just need to-" he was interrupted by the blessed footsteps of his flatmate. Great, John's presence would make everything more believable, if he understood enough to play along. Good old John, coming to the rescue as always.

"Sherlock? I'm just putting down the Tesco bags and picking up Rosie from Mrs. Hudson. Would you put the milk in the fridge?"

Sherlock smirked internally. The domesticity of the situation would give his client certain ideas, as it did for the rest of the world. John had moved back to Baker Street with Rosie a while after it was renovated, and the little girl now lived with a Daddy, a Grandma (Mrs. Hudson), and an Uncle Sherlock. And no, they still weren't a couple, despite what some people imagined.

"Come here a moment, John, and meet our new client." After they had been properly introduced, Sherlock turned to John and asked him, "John, sweetheart, my brother Mike has come for a visit. Mother and Father are traveling this week, and they asked us to take him in. You know how he's been lately, with his delusions... I'm sorry I didn't mention it before, but it was quite sudden. I tried calling, but you didn't pick up. Would you go check on him, honey?"

It took all of John's willpower to keep his jaw from dropping. Instead, he looked Sherlock straight in the eye, and Sherlock looked straight back. "Alright," he said, because he would never call Sherlock _sweetheart,_ or _honey,_ no matter what game the detective was playing.

John entered the kitchen and signaled to Mycroft to put his phone away. Quietly, he told him, "Sherlock asked me to check on you, but he was talking... strangely."

Mycroft gave him an Holmesian once-over, and demanded, in the same tone, "Tell me exactly what he said."

Mycroft listened, and then gave a small grimace. "Alright, I know what he wants. This must be payback for the last case I sent you on..."

"Care to share?" John pressed impatiently.

"I'm apparently getting a makeover as Mike Holmes, mentally ill brother of Sherlock Holmes, who lives with his parents. I am delusional and unable to take care of myself. He wants us to convey that impression to the client."

"I won't even ask why. What do I need to do?"

"Just do your usual 'Good Doctor' routine. Let him believe you are in charge of my medical care while I'm here." Mycroft grimaced again. "Sherlock has a _lot_ to answer for, once this is over."

"Come on, this might even be enjoyable. _I_ definitely plan to enjoy it," John smirked at the government man. While the two men's relationship was much improved, there remained a faint undercurrent of rivalry between them.

" _Mike!"_ John suddenly raised his voice. "Did you forget to take your medication _again_?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** This is the second and final part of Acting Out. I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know how you liked it!

* * *

The doctor and his newest "patient" continued arguing in rather loud tones. Sherlock began apologizing to his client. "Sorry about that, I'm afraid my brother is rather-"

He was cut off by John marching into the room, dragging a rather petulant Mycroft with him. "Sherlock, you need to contact your mother. I suspect Mike hasn't taken his meds today." The doctor's was frowning in concern.

"I don't need medication!" the newly christened "Mike" said, in a rather loud voice. "I have many important things to do, and you are distracting me!"

"Mike," John said in his best doctor voice, gentle but firm. "We've spoken about this. You need to follow the rules if you want to stay here."

"Shut up, I have a very important phone call to make. I need to contact the Prime Minister regarding the nuclear crisis. If you bother me now, we'll all go up in smoke, and that will be _all your_ _fault_!"Mycroft removed his phone from his pocket and began speaking into it, without dialing before.

"It's me, Madam Prime Minister. How many times do I need to warn you about the nuclear bomb hidden at 10 Downing? You need to dismantle it right away!"

"Mikey, you're phone is turned off. You aren't speaking to anyone right now," Sherlock said patiently. "This isn't real."

"Of course it's real!" Mike exclaimed indignantly. "I need to save our country. I am the British Government!" Mycroft said sternly.

Singleton was watching the exchange with rapt attention. Sherlock glanced at his brother and gave a minute wave of his hand towards the client's briefcase. Mycroft blinked in return.

"Come on, Mike, you know that's impossible. One man can't be a government by himself," John chided.

Mycroft gave him a blank stare, and then turned to regard the client, leaning both hands on his umbrella. Singleton stared back at him, and for several moments there was a stalemate. Suddenly, he picked up his brolly and jabbed the tip into the other man's chest.

"He's the one!" He yelled. "He's the communist spy! He planted the bomb, and now he's spying on us!"

Mycroft punctuated his words with several more vicious jabs. Singleton attempted to retreat but his opponent came after him until he was backed up against the wall. John rushed over and attempted to remove the umbrella from his hand.

"Leave my sword alone, you traitor!" the umbrella wielding man hissed. "I will stab this neo-Nazi, communist, Taliban spy like the scum he is!"

John continued tugging at his arm. "Don't do this, Mike. Look, it's just an umbrella. You're having delusions again."

" _I knew it! You are conspiring with him!"_ Mycroft was practically foaming at the mouth. Despite himself, John had to supress a shiver. The criminal mastermind was much worse off. He cowered at the wall, pale and shaking, while trying to dodge the umbrella tip.

 _"I will shoot you both with this gun!"_ Mycroft still held fast to his weapon. Fortunately for Singleton, Sherlock suddenly appeared at Mycroft's other side and helped the doctor subdue the seemingly mad man.

"Could have used some help before," John chided his friend.

"Mike, you need to come with us to your room. John will give you something to calm you down."

"I don't want to!" Mycroft protested, grunting as he struggled.

"If you don't come with me _right now_ I'm calling Mummy," Sherlock threatened.

Mycroft seemed to deflate and let himself be led away. The trio went into Sherlock's bedroom, and a moment later Sherlock came back out.

"I'm really sorry about that," Sherlock told Singleton, sounding distressed. "My brother usually doesn't act up in this way."

Singleton took several deep breaths before he replied. "I'll let it slide this time, but you won't be so lucky if it ever happens again. You owe me," He said gruffly.

"I appreciate that," Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief. "No worries, I'm making your case top priority."

"You should," the man replied, a hint of menace in his voice.

"Oh, one more thing. You understand that my brother's... condition, is a delicate matter. My parents have invested a lot of effort into keeping the matter private. You understand, at most times, his behavior is perfectly normal. I would appreciate your discretion."

"Of course, Mr. Holmes," the criminal answered, his eyes gleaming as he took his leave.

John and Mycroft emerged from the bedroom, and for a moment, the three just looked at one another. Predictably, the doctor and the detective ended the silence first, by breaking down into hysterical laughter.

The British Government watched them, wearing that kind of smile that would have warned his brother, if he had been watching, that things were "a bit not good." Mycroft waited patiently until the duo had subsided, and then turned to his brother.

"You know, brother mine," he remarked casually. "I had hoped that an army doctor would have had a good influence on you. Turns out that you corrupted him instead."

"Now, now, Mike, why don't you calm down," Sherlock said with exaggerated concern. "Have you taken your medication today?" This set the two flatmates off into another round of hilarity.

"Show me what you got," Mycroft demanded impatiently.

"Wait... wait," the doctor gasped for breath. "Would anyone like to inform me of what's going on around here?"

The consulting detective explained his suspicions and the plan he came up with.

"And what exactly was the purpose of that tantrum you threw?" John inquired of the older Holmes.

The look on Mycroft's face was priceless. John wished he could have recorded it for posterity.

"I didnt do anything of that kind. My little brother needed a distraction, and I merely ensured he got one. What did you manage to get, Sherlock?"

"I've found some interesting clues on his laptop. Take a look."

Mycroft complied, and perused the information Sherlock had written down. "Hmm, David Singleton. He's been barely a blip on our radar, but I see he's branching out." He absently rubbed his hands together. "Russian mafia connections... laundering money for terrorist operations... we will need to keep a close eye on that one."

"You can do better than that. You can bring him down," Sherlock told him smugly. "With my help, of course.

"Singleton has an employee that has absconded with sensitive information. If we can track him down and offer him a deal, he'll give us the info. Combined with the intel I acquired now, we should be able to put him away. Singleton is the type to rat out others in order to save his own sorry skin, so we might get several more for the price of one." Sherlock grinned happily.

"How do we get to him now?" John wondered.

"Easy. I lure him back with the promise of new information."

"Does he trust you?" Mycroft asked.

"He thinks he has blackmail material on me," Sherlock grinned even wider. "Namely, my brother's secret condition."

"You owe me, brother. Seventy-five squared."

Sherlock paled a bit. "No, no, that's too high. I did it for your sake, brother mine! I saved your life!" he exclaimed, in full drama mode.

"No need for drama. Alright, three to the power of seven."

John would never in a million years understand the Holmesian system of keeping score of favors, but he saw Sherlock looking relieved, so he assumed the brothers had settled on reasonable terms.

"I'll have Anthea plant my altered records somewhere where Singleton can find it, to authenticate your claims. I'll also have my agents deal with his minions when he arrives. Oh, and Mike will be waiting right here, assisting you in taking him down." Mycroft grinned in amusement.

"You enjoyed it!" Sherlock exclaimed accusingly.

"Well, it did remind me of my Lady Bracknell days. I've missed the stage. Besides, did you see the look on his face?"

John and Sherlock broke into laughter again, and this time, to their surprise, the older Holmes only smirked.

When, several days later, David Singleton was arrested, and began babbling at the interviewing detective about a man with an umbrella that was really a sword, that was also a gun, who was really the British Government, and took him down together with a consulting detective and ex-army doctor, the detective, DI Lestrade, raised his eyebrows in the direction of Mycroft, who was standing in the back of the room. Mycroft merely shrugged his shoulders and remarked, "The shock of his arrest must have caused him to have some delusions."


End file.
